An Interesting Journey
by Arian Sidhe
Summary: When Rapunzel, Eugene, and their four children go on a diplomatic mission to the land of Arendalle, they get more than they bargained for! Not only is Hans leading an army to conquer Arendalle, their youngest child is lost while exploring the mountains. And (to top it all off) their eldest is falling in love with the son of Anna and Kristoff. Happily ever after? Not so much.
1. Chapter 1

In Which Everyone Gets Rather Wet

"EUGENE!" The crown princess's cry rang through the palace, as she frantically shoved three mismatched socks into her (rather battered) suitcase.

"You bellowed?" Eugene Fitzherbert leaned lazily against the door frame.

Rapunzel rolled her eyes. "Eugene, I know you hate traveling. But—"

"Hate? No. Hate is almost friendly. Hate I can deal with. But _this_—" He shuddered. "Absolutely dreadful."

Rapunzel abandoned the suitcase. "Well, well, it looks like Flynn Ryder is finally abandoning his fake reputation."

"Abandon-_ing_? Darling wife, I forfeited everything the day I met you."

"And you wouldn't change anything?"

"Not a bit." They leaned in for a kiss, Rapunzel noting that her husband's lips tasted like Coronan eggnog. She'd have to warn him about the ingredients one of these days…

"MOM!" The royal couple winced as a girl with dark brown hair and panicked hazel eyes skidded around the corner. "Ow!" she cried, just as Eugene replied with, "Oof!" She'd run into his stomach.

"Eugene, sit down. Alyssa Hermione Fitzherbert, you had _better _have finished packing."

"That's just _it_, Mom!" Her eyes—the color of her father's, but the size of her mother's—turned towards Rapunzel. "I HAVE NOTHING TO WEAR!"

The crown princess took a deep breath—in, then out. Then she turned to her daughter. "Lissa, you are eleven years old, correct? And your wardrobe takes up how much of your room?"

"Oh, the wardrobe only takes up about a third. The rest is dummies and fabric and needles and thread. And…I _think _my bed's in there somewhere."

Eugene groaned. "Remind me why we had kids again?"

"Because you _love meee?" _Alyssa grinned impishly at her father, who ruffled her hair.

"_Anyways_," Rapunzel stated, clearing her throat, "Lissa, it shouldn't be too hard to find three dresses to wear." Her daughter opened her mouth, but she held up a hand. "If they're torn or dirty, talk to the housekeeper. We leave tomorrow—she'll have plenty of time to mend them. If worst comes to absolute worst, borrow a few from Grania."

Alyssa flopped out on the bed in an apparent attempt to become boneless. "Grania's _stupid_," she whined, her words muffled by the mattress. "Her clothes are disgraceful!"

"Then the next time you're bored on a rainy day, you can bring her clothes into the current fashion instead of running up and down the _newly-polished halls _in your socks."

"Mom! I _told _you, that was all Danny's idea?"

Her mother laughed, not unkindly. "And you thought we'd believe you, dear?"

"Eh, well." She shrugged in the manner of one much older. "It was worth a shot."

"Oh, and don't go insulting your siblings, young lady," Eugene reminded her. She opened her mouth to say something—it was probably sarcastic—but at that very moment, a young woman of about fifteen and a small boy of perhaps seven raced in, banging their arms and heads in an attempt to be the first in through the door.

Rapunzel dived atop her precious suitcase just in time. The boy produced a water pistol and shot at the girl, missing wildly. "BLAM!" he yelled. "Ha! I gotcha! Grania's de-ead, Grania's de-ead!"

"If I'm dead, how am I still talking?" As he paused to think this through, she shot him with much more accuracy. "HA! Victory belongs to Grania Irene Fitzherbert once more!"

"No fair," the boy sulked. "Your pistol's better!"

"Well, next time we can switch, then," she laughed. Just then, she noticed her dripping father, her furious sister, and her speechless mother. Silence descended upon the Fitzherbert family. Eugene was first to speak.

"Why am I ALWAYS getting wet?!"

"Mother, I finished pack—oh dear." A girl about Grania's age poked her head in. She was the only one to inherit her mother's original blond hair (though they had yet to test its healing properties.) Her blue eyes sparkled as she took in the scene. "Grania, did you and Rick have another water fight?"

"I'm right here!" the little boy yelled indignantly. "And she won _again_, Bethy!"

The aforementioned Bethy grinned. "Next time, ask the gardener for advice. He taught me how to shoot so well that eventually Gran stopped challenging me."

"They were flukes!" Grania protested.

"EXCUSE ME!" All the children quieted. They'd never heard their father yell like that before.

He took a deep breath. "Alaric. Grania. You two get some towels and clean up this mess. Lissa, you go find some suitable gowns. Bethy, my one dear normal child." By now his tone had thawed to teasing, and Rick (not that he'd ever admit it) could breathe again. "You just head back to the library from whence you came."

"Okay, Dad!" She was already halfway down the hallway. The library was Bethy's second home, and everyone knew it. There'd been a rather amusing conflict once where a visiting dignitary had come to the library in search for book about the commerce of Corona and had been scared stiff to hear Bethy dreamily pronounce from a chair that the books of commerce and trade were in the third aisle, fifth shelf down. People didn't notice Bethy much, despite her golden hair.

No, Grania was the twin they noticed. Bethy kept her hair in a tidy braid; Grania let her auburn locks tangle, and didn't care one bit. Grania adored horses; Bethy was terrified of them. Bethy could live quite comfortably in a library; Grania craved companionship, both human and animal. They loved each other, of course, but they were polar opposites.

Grania, as well as Alaric, had inherited her mother's crackling green eyes. Well—they were crackling in _her _face. In Alaric's face, whom nearly everyone called Rick, they were usually narrowed in concentration. He was a skinny, string-bean lad of seven, with his father's hair (and perfect nose, which his father tended to brag about.) He very nearly worshipped Grania and Bethy.

The same cannot be said for him and Alyssa. Though they were only a few years apart, they could barely stand to be in the same room for a length of time. If you left them alone long enough, Alyssa would spring at him, heedless of her fine clothes, and he'd tackle her right back, no matter what Bethy instructed him about gentleness and Being a Gentleman.

Eugene tore his mind away from his beloved (but exhausting) children and turned to his wife, still hunched over her suitcase. "You all right, sweetheart?" he asked.

She nodded, then grinned. "You were right. It always _does _end in us getting wet."


	2. Chapter 2

In Which An Oven Explodes

Finnr Kristoffsson was helping Mrs. Bjornson in the kitchen when his little sister came tearing down the stairs.

"FINNR! FINNR!" she screamed. "THEY'RE COMING!"

"Who's coming now, Mjöll?"

"THE FITZHERBERTS!" She grabbed his arms and swung him around in a wild kind of dance. On the stove, he could smell the sauce burning.

"Snowflake, that's great news, but I don't want to start a fire in the castle while Aunt Elsa's away!" He extracted himself from Mjöll and stirred quickly. The burning smell diminished. "Now, what's this about the Fitzherberts?"

"They're coming to stay! For three whole months! I haven't seen Bethy and Grania in _years_!"

"Oh yes—Grania's the short one who was trying to hit me with a sword the whole time, and Bethy's the one who always had her nose in a book." He chuckled. "It has been awhile, hasn't it?"

"You know…" Mjöll's face took on a sly look, and Finnr felt a sense of foreboding. "They're seventeen now. Old enough to wed."

"Maybe here, but things are different in Corona."

"Actually, in Corona, girls get married as young as fifteen!" Finnr raised an eyebrow. "No, I'm serious! Grania told me about it in her last letter."

"Wait—_really_?" Finnr shook his head. This marriage business was driving him around the bend. "Anyways, Snowflake, I don't need your piling on as well. It's bad enough the way Mother talks about her wedding gown loudly when she knows I'm around, or Father asking me if I have any friends I'd like to bring home for dinner. And don't even get me _started _on the trolls."

"What was that about trolls?" Kristoff strolled into the kitchen. "Delicious smell, by the way."

"Hi, Dad!" Finnr called, taking the sauce off the stove to let it cool. "Mjöll's trying to convince me to marry one of the Fitzherbert girls."

"And why not?" Kristoff tossed an apple from hand to hand before taking a bite out of it. "Both of them are sweet girls."

Finnr snorted. He never thought he'd hear Grania Fitzherbert described as sweet.

"All right, all right. Grania's a little crazy, but that's never a bad thing. And the other one—Bethany, she's a nice girl, even if her sister isn't."

"Dad!" Finnr groaned. "You don't get it! I'm not in love with either of them!"

Kristoff raised an eyebrow. "You haven't seen any of the Fitzherberts in ten years. I hear they have a son now—Alaric, that's the name. And, Finnr, you're twenty-one. The same age your Aunt Elsa was when she inherited the throne."

"Thankfully, my aunt will not die for some time, so there is no rush," Finnr retorted calmly, pouring the sauce into a dish with scalloped edges. "Dad, I'll marry eventually. But not everyone falls in love like you and Mom did—or, for that matter, like the Fitzherbert parents did! Most people court each other for a number of months before falling in love, believe it or not."

"Watch the tone, Finnr." He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he could get a word out, there was a calamitous shrieking from the stairwell. Abandoning his sauce, Finnr raced up the stairs, Mjöll and Kristoff hot on his heels.

There were the triplets. Nan was being hung off the edge of the stairs by Eddie, who was shrieking, "_I can't hold on! I can't hold on!_" Liulfr, dashing down the stairs, was just in time to slam into Kristoff's knees. The older man sat down with an _oof! _Thinking fast, Finnr grabbed Nan by the back of her dress, just as Eddie's sweaty fingers let go.

There was a shaky silence. Then Eddie, of all people began to cry.

Groaning, Kristoff got to his feet. "I'm too old for all of this!" he exclaimed. "Eddie! Liulfr! What _exactly _did you think was to be gained by hanging Nan off the stairwell?"

"S-sir…" A trembling Nan plucked at his shirtsleeve. "I—I wanted to see what things looked like upside down, sir. So I asked Eddie to hold me off the stairwell. But then his grip started slipping and Liulfr banged into a wall of pots and pans and I—I thought I was gonna die, sir!"

A word here—neither Liulfr, nor Eddie, nor Nan were related to the Kristoffssons. Liulfr had been left on the palace doorstep one day, with a note saying, "Please take care of him, Elsa." Despite the wording, Elsa, in a strange twist of behavior, wanted nothing to do with the baby. So Anna took him in, and she and Kristoff raised him as their own child.

Coincidentally, the same day, a new maid had arrived, with her baby girl (only a few months older than Liulfr) in tow. And, a few years later, another boy had been orphaned in the mysterious fire, and no one seemed to know who his relatives were.

So you could say that the 'triplets,' as everyone called them, were meant to find each other. Nan would probably stick her tongue out at this sentiment; Liulfr would listen politely; and Eddie would lose track of what you were saying halfway through and end up making a dreadful face at you.

Kristoff smiled at Nan. His 'people skills' had improved greatly over the last twenty-two years, and he could tell that Nan was afraid of him—not him, Kristoff, him, the prince of Arendalle. "Don't worry, Nan. And if you ever want to see what the world is like upside down, just ask Anna to teach you how to do headstands." She nodded, but they both knew she'd never ask Anna by herself.

"C'mon, Nan!" Liulfr shouted. "Let's go find Mom!"

"Hey, I know how to do handstands!" Eddie added, not to be outdone. "I can show you!"

But Nan was already smiling shyly at Liulfr. Eddie took his usual place—running just a few steps behind Nan and Liulfr.

"That's going to end up nasty one of these days," Finnr observed. "They both love Nan to death, and they're nearing That Age. Someday soon…"

"Oh, Journeyman, you're so cryptic. I think it's positively romantic!" Kristoff and Finnr both laughed, though not unkindly.

"You've got quite a bit of your mother in you, Mjöll. Did I ever tell you the story of her first ball?"

"Only about a million times, Dad. She met Hans—" Kristoff's jaw tightened, "—they got engaged, Aunt Elsa wouldn't bless them, one thing led to another, yada blah blah, and here we are now."

"Do _not _mention that piece of scum in my presence, if you don't mind, Mjöll." His teeth were gritted, and Finnr and Mjöll exchanged a Look.

"Sorry, Dad," Mjöll muttered. His face softened.

"No, _ástin mín_, I'm the one who's sorry. It was a long time ago, and I should forget." He smiled. "Anyway, she was positive that she was going to meet 'The One' there. I remember her face when Elsa told me about it—an absolute strawberry, it was."

Mjöll pouted. "I don't think I'm going to meet 'the one' at any balls, though. I'm only sixteen! And the nobles who visit are all married, girls, or idiots."

"Hey now!" Finnr sprinkled a bit of parsley on the sauce, and then turned to put the grouse in the roasting pan. "What about Aaron of Weselton? He visited a little while back."

Mjöll flushed. "He's the most idiotic of them all!"

"Your face says otherwise, my dear daughter," Kristoff teased. "Are you sure that you are so averse to him?"

"YES!" she shouted. "He called me 'Carrots' and teased me about my favorite book and said that my braids were ridiculous!"

Finnr looked puzzled. "I say that your braids are ridiculous all the time, Snowflake. And Mom calls you and her 'the Carrot twins.'"

"It's _different_!" she insisted. "You're _family_! He's just Aaron of _Weasel_-town."

"It _is _Weselton, you know," Finnr said with a smirk. "There! Mrs. Bjornson should approve of the sauce. So when are the Fitzherberts coming?"

"In about two weeks. You know how long the voyages from Corona to Arendalle take."

"What's this I hear about the Fitzherberts?" Two new figures entered the kitchen—Anna and Hjortr, Finnr's younger brother by two years.

Mjöll latched on to Hjortr. "They're coming to visit! In two weeks!"

Anna clapped her hands delightedly. "Oh, it's been _ages _since I saw Rapunzel! Letters simply aren't the same. And…" She cast a sly look at Finnr, looking remarkably like her daughter. "You know that the Fitzherbert girls are eligible for marriage, don't you?"

When Queen Elsa returned home that night, she was unsurprised to see that the oven had exploded. Again. Shaking her head, she made her way to her bedroom. _They really should stop pressuring him to marry. He's a hotheaded young man—he can't fully control his fire powers yet. _She yawned as she sank into sleep. _I wonder why our family has so many elementalists…_

**Author's Note: **Hi, all! Just in case this was a little confusing, Finnr has the power of fire. None of his other siblings have elemental powers. The reason shall be explained later. Thanks for reading! Reviewers get free cookies!


	3. Chapter 3

In Which There Is Shouting, Sailing, and A Vow

Eugene Fitzherbert, formerly Flynn Ryder, was a remarkably fearless man. However, we are all human, and it must be admitted that bold Eugene was rather terrified of three things: His wife, his father-in-law (also known as King Thomas of Corona) and ships.

He could handle a day trip in a sailboat, of course. He wasn't _that _far gone. But large boats, out on traceless sea, with storms and monsters and who knows what…

Of course, it didn't help much that his entire family was sharing the same cabin.

"RICK!" Alyssa yelled, clutching her sketchbook to her chest. "STOP TRYING TO TACKLE ME!"

"I'M NOT!" an indignant Rick yelled back. "I'm just trying to play chess with Gran!"

Alyssa snorted. "If _that's _chess, then I'm a polar bear."

She did have a point. Chess to Bethy and Alyssa (and most people around the globe) consisted of thinking, occasionally moving pieces, and checking and re-checking the rules.

At that moment, Grania dived onto the chessboard, scattering the pieces. "ARRRGH!" she shouted. "YOU ARE POWERLESS, LITTLE PAWNS!"

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "Remind me to bring my earplugs next time."

Rick and Grania ignored her. "NEVER!" Rick shouted, throwing the board up at Grania's head. She dived to avoid it, narrowly missing Bethy (who was sitting in the corner with a book, as per usual) and landed on top of her mother who gave a startled squeal.

The last of Eugene's temper dissipated, and he stood up, banging his head on the ceiling. "Ow! Rick and Grania, go up top and look at the sea. NOW."

Complaints were immediately voiced. "Da-ad! It's raining up there and—" Rick gulped as his father knelt down on the floor.

"You. Grania. Deck. NOW."

They went.

Eugene flopped down on the bed, absentmindedly snapping his fingers. Rapunzel gently closed her hand over his. "Darling, this journey will be over before you know it."

He smiled wearily. "I know—just a few more days. But it seems like forever, with Rick and Gran getting in the middle of everything. And they can hardly go on deck because of all the rain."

Rapunzel blinked. "Eugene, you realize you just sent them up top, don't you?"

He sat straight up. "What."

Before anyone could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. Rapunzel opened it to a dripping trio of Grania, Rick, and a midshipman.

He saluted. "Hope you don't mind, Your Highness, but we can't have 'em on deck during a rainstorm like this. I've got to get back—hopefully the rain will end soon, and everyone can have a nice turn about the deck, eh?" He shut the door and ran back up top, his feet pounding away into the distance.

Rapunzel crossed her arms. "Rick and Grania, your father wants to tell you something." They looked expectantly at Eugene."

"Mumblewumble."

"_Dear_…"

"I'm sorry I sent you outside while it was raining."

Rick rolled his eyes. "Why, Dad? It was _awesome_! There were sailors _everywhere_! One was saying a bunch of words that I didn't know, like—"

With great presence of mind, Bethy had covered his mouth. "Gentlemen don't say words like that, dear," she remonstrated.

Rick flung himself onto a narrow bunk. "Gentlemen can't do _anything_. And Bethy, you're gonna rule the country anyway." He jumped up. "I wanna be like Flynn Ryder!"

Eugene and Rapunzel shared a look. "Why is that, dear?" Rapunzel asked calmly.

"Cause Flynn Ryder is _amazing_, Mom!" Rick replied, rolling his eyes at his mother's foolishness. "He's so rich, he can do anything! Anything he wants! He can captain a ship, or command an army, or—or—"

"Or he could stay at home with his sisters and parents and get his young self into bed, seeing as it's past his bedtime," Eugene interrupted with a chuckle. Rick pouted, but crawled willingly enough into bed.

Just as everyone was settling in for the night, the ship suddenly lurched to the side. There was a silence. Then:

"Eugene, dear?"

"Yes, Rapunzel?"

"That's my stomach you're lying on."

"Sorry, dear. But would you mind releasing my hair? I'm rather fond of it."

"Of course. Sorry, dear."

Grania rolled her eyes at her parents' foolishness. _Love's stupid_, she thought sleepily. _Makes you act all silly. _She poked Bethy to tell her this. Bethy (who could be rather ferocious when she was tired) whacked her on the head and promptly fell back asleep.

Grania's last thought before losing consciousness was: _Catch _me _falling in love. I'll never be as stupid as that._

And then all was darkness.

**Author's Note: **So, Grania has sworn not to fall in love, eh? We shall see… *insert creepy laughter* Thanks for the reviews!

**Guest**: Maybe yes…maybe no. All will be revealed at the end! (Maybe. Hehehe…)

**elephantimelordemsofOz**: Thanks so much!

Thanks for reading! Come on, people. Pass the basket around. Let's get a few reviews flowing here…


	4. Chapter 3 5

A Brief Intermission

Hi! So a couple people reviewed, saying that they were confused about everybody's children and their ages. And (though as an author, I enjoy causing anxiety and extreme impatience) confusing people is the last thing I want to do. So, to the best of my ability, here they are.

**Eugene and Rapunzel Fitzherbert**

**Grania Irene Fitzherbert**—The oldest twin, complete with thick auburn hair and crackling green eyes, Grania is a 17-year-old tomboy who never lets anything get in her way (usually because people are too afraid of her to cross her.) She loves her family, her dogs, her horse named Minimus—blame her father's sense of humor—and her aunt Merida. (What? Psh…of course I didn't just sneak another reference in there…I'd never do that!)

**Bethany Ailsa Fitzherbert**—Grania's younger twin by five minutes. Goes by Bethy. Blond-haired and blue-eyed, she spends most of her time in the library. No one notices her much—but that doesn't mean that she's not interesting, not by a long shot. If she walks by with her head buried in a book, feel free to say something like, "Purple elephants are climbing out of your nose." She will probably dreamily reply with, "Yes, that tends to happen this time of year."

**Alyssa Hermione Fitzherbert**—The youngest daughter of the Fitzherbert clan. At 11 years old, she's already become the bane of the Coronan seamstresses, who are just trying to do their job, thank you very much, and do not need to know the latest fashions to make Her Majesty the Queen's gown. Alyssa's (Lissa to her mother) long hair and large hazel eyes imply great beauty later in life. She can usually be seen with her best friend, a stable boy named Danny.

**Alaric Lucas Fitzherbert**—He might be the youngest Fitzherbert, but he's a tough one. Possibly the most irritating 7-year-old you will ever meet. Nearly a dozen servants have already quit because of his antics—though, to be fair, Grania had a hand in most of them, too. He has his father's brown hair and his mother's eyes. He is always trying to figure out how and why things work—don't ask about his experiment with gravity. Suffice to say that his legs have healed by now.

**Anna and Kristoff Bjorgman**

**Finnr Erik Kristoffsson**—The eldest boy. He's twenty-one years old and is perfectly happy WITHOUT a wife (or so he says) and, well, if I enjoyed making puns I'd say he's a little 'hot-tempered!' (Oh wait—I LOVE bad puns.) He has the power of fire and relates to his aunt Elsa quite a bit. He has his father's blond hair and unfortunate nose, and surprisingly dark blue eyes from some unknown ancestor. He's gentle with most people, but if you hurt the people he loves…well, let's just say it's best to get as far away as possible before he finds out. (So far my favorite character.)

**Hjortr Olaf Kristoffsson**—The second-eldest son, 19 years old. He barely made an appearance in the 2nd chapter, and more will be explained about him later. For now, all you need to know is that he has the brown hair of his grandmother (on his mother's side) and Anna's green eyes. He also inherited his father's unfortunate nose.

**Mjöll Ebba Kristoffsson**—A 16-year-old tomboy who enjoys a good book. Mjöll is very good friends with the Fitzherbert twins, and receives a letter from them nearly every other week. Her favorite sibling is Finnr, and her hair matches her mother's. There is only one person she truly hates with a passion (besides Hans of her parents' stories), and that is Aaron of Weselton. He is a jerk. Do not pay attention to him. She has brown eyes and a tendency to trip over things.

**Liulfr Njord Kristoffsson**—At the age of thirteen months, he was left on the castle doorstep with a note pinned to him that said, 'Please take care of him, Elsa.' For some reason, Elsa wanted nothing to do with the baby, and so he was given over to Anna. Now he is nine years old. His best friends are Nan and Eddie. His hair is auburn, usually flopping over one eye, and his eyes are brown.

**Edward Samuel Wood**—Better known as Eddie, this 'triplet' was adopted when his family died in a mysterious house fire. As his parents were immigrants from a southern country, no one knew of any relatives. So Anna and Kristoff, emulating the idiom of 'in for a penny, in for a pound,' adopted him. He and Liulfr became best friends almost immediately—and when he met Nan, he was rendered speechless. He's nine years old as well.

**Annette Margot Pique**—The last triplet completing the set. Nan—if you call her Annette, I hope you like going through life with no teeth and little motor control—is the daughter of a maid. Their background is rather mysterious. All that is really known about them is that when Nan was around three months old, her mother came to the Arendalle castle and found work. When Nan and Liulfr were about four, they discovered each other and became best friends. When they were five, Eddie joined them—and complicated things forever…

Hope this clears things up!


	5. Chapter 4

In Which There Is A Minor Accident

Finnr barely had time to register the darkness of the room and a flash of carrot-colored hair before a large, squishy object was applied to his face with approximately the same amount of force as an angry moose.

"Ow!" Mjöll yelped, as the pillow sizzled into cinders. "Why'd you do that?!"

"_Because_," Finnr said, his teeth gritted, as he fumbled around for his necklace, "it is four o'clock in the morning, and you are annoying me. Excessively. And because I wasn't wearing my crystal."

Mjöll stamped her foot. "But _Finnr_, they arrive _today_!"

"Who—oh, yes. Three months of sidelong looks, overheated balls, and girls shoved at me. Sounds like heaven."

"Oh, Finnr, you're such a grump in the morning! Come on! Their ship arrives in an hour, and I haven't been able to sleep all night!"

Finnr took another look at his little sister. Yep—there were bags under her eyes. "Mjöll, go back to bed."

"But the sky's awake! So I _have _to be awake!"

"Oh yes, I'm sure you and the sky have a very important contract," Finnr retorted drily.

She stuck her tongue out. "Maybe we do!"

"Whatever. I'm going back to sleep. Wake me in half an hour, when the rest of our family is moving and conscious."

He heard her faint protests as he slipped back into a dream…

_Someone was crying. It was the voice of a child, and Finnr felt panicked. He knew he had to find the kid soon, or he'd freeze._

_"Did you hear that?" Someone was walking next to him. He could tell it was a girl, and that she was distinctly blond, but other than that—nothing._

_He nodded tersely. "We're getting close."_

_She responded by humming a tune. "Hm-hm, hm-hm-hmm…Hm-hm, hm-hm-hmm…"_

_"Will you stop that?" Finnr's nerves snapped. "It's bad enough that _he's _back and that that idiot kid got himself lost! You don't need to hum and make it even worse!"_

_She stomped her foot, reminding him of Mjöll. "Well, if _your _stupid powers hadn't stalled out, we could at least melt the snow!"_

_"Well, if he hadn't gotten lost, we wouldn't _need _to melt the snow!"_

_"FINE! I'll go look for him myself! You have fun looking with your special fire powers—good luck!" She stormed off, wading through the snow. It had to be at least waist-deep._

_Finnr felt a twist of sympathy. "Wait—" he started to call. But then the world went colder and flooded with color…_

Finnr sat up, gasping, and reaching for the crystal that hung on his necklace. Mjöll dropped the blanket she'd just pulled off and ran to him. "Finnr! Oh, geez, I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

He waved her away. "I'm fine, Snowflake. It was just a surprise. I haven't had a dream in ages. Anyway—well, I'm up now. Shall I make breakfast?"

She smiled shakily. "Sure. But are you _sure _you're—"

"Honestly, Mjöll, I am FINE. The last time I had an accident was when I was ten, all right? Now let's go eat."

They ate.

An hour later, Mjöll was hopping anxiously from one foot to the other. "Do you think they'll remember me?" she asked Anna anxiously.

Anna laughed, not unkindly. "Of course. I'm fairly certain that people remember the first one to push them into a snowbank."

Mjöll turned red. "That—that was only once! And it was only Grania, anyway, and she'd already defeated me at jousting!"

Hjortr snorted. "Jousting? Mjöll, you were hitting each other with _sticks_." Mjöll, evidently able to find no verbal response for this, smacked him in the head. "Ow! Hey, I'm just _saying_…"

"Well, you don't need to say," she snapped. A long silence stretched out.

Liulfr broke it. "I hope Alaric knows some games. The old ones are getting boring, and we're not allowed to do anything fun."

Nan elbowed him in the side. "Be polite!" she hissed.

Anna smiled at her. "Don't worry, sweetheart. Liulfr won't get in trouble for speaking out of turn."

Nan blushed at the term of endearment. "A-all right, Your Highness. I'm sorry."

Before Anna could reassure her again, Mjöll started jumping up and down. "There it is! There it is!" There was, indeed, a black dot on the horizon, growing steadily larger.

"EEEE!" the teenage girl squealed. Hjortr, annoyed, put his hand over her mouth, and withdrew it quickly with a yell.

"Ow! You _bit _me!"

"You tried to _smother _me!"

"You broke my eardrums!"

"YOU ANNOY ME EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE!"

The fire crystal around Finnr's neck grew hotter and hotter. Trying to control his temper, he took a deep breath. "Will you both _please _calm down?!"

Mjöll ignored him, not seeing the small blackened hole that his necklace was burning in his jacket. "You're such a—_ow_!"

She frantically stamped at the end of her dress, which was now smoking. "Finnr! That _hurt_!"

"I'm really sorry!" Finnr scooped up a handful of seawater and tossed it on her ankle. She hissed in pain, but then relaxed.

"I'm sorry." Finnr felt miserable. "I didn't mean to burn you, Mjöll."

"It—it's fine. I mean, Aunt Elsa nearly froze Arendalle when she was your age—you just burned a little fabric." She smiled shakily. "I'm sorry for annoying you."

Hjortr glared at Finnr. "I'm not." He turned away from his brother, and instead watched the ship that was getting closer and closer.

The silence descended over the lonely dock once more. This time, no one broke it.

**Author's Note: **Whoa-heavy! Sorry for the delay between 3 and 3.5-Google Chrome isn't letting me go to the website, and it was a few days before I figured out that I needed to use Internet Explorer. So-yeah. Sorry! Hope you like this chapter!


	6. Chapter 5

In Which Stockings Are Ruined, More People Get Wet, And Friendships Are Formed

"MJÖLL!" Grania shouted, running off the ship. Bethy followed a little more daintily. _I rather wish she wouldn't do that_, Bethy thought. _I love her, but she could trip over something and drown in that dress._

Mjöll herself was hugging the life out of Grania. "Gran! How are you? How's everyone and everything and—how's your life?"

"It's _wonderful_, Mjöll! How's yours? How's your idiotic broth—" Mjöll slapped her hand over Grania's mouth, just as Hjortr walked up to them.

"Pleasure to meet you," he said, obviously not focused on them. "Welcome-to-Arendalle-please-enjoy-your-stay."

"What if I don't _want _to enjoy my stay?" Grania put her hands on her hips.

He blinked. "What?"

"What if I want to have an absolutely miserable time, huh?" Behind her, Mjöll giggled. She ignored her.

"Then—I hope that your stay is the worst that has ever been had." He cracked a small smile, and Grania offered a larger one in return.

"I'm Grania. Grania Fitzherbert."

"Mjöll's told me a lot about you. I'm Hjortr Kristoffsson."

Mjöll smiled deviously to herself. _A perfect opportunity…_

"Hjortr, why don't you show Grania the stables? You both love riding, and I just know she'd love to explore Arendalle with you!"

Grania glanced at Hjortr, then crossed her arms and looked at Mjöll with her eyelids half-lowered. "Mjöll, I'm not going to marry your brother, so you can stop trying."

Hjortr turned beet-red. "I—I—_Mjöll_!"

"This has happened before, huh?" Grania laughed. "Mjöll, let's go get Bethy, and we can get to know each other again. Then I'll visit the stables by _myself_, if you don't mind."

Mjöll sighed. "Fine! Ruin my life! Take away my only joy!"

Grania rolled her eyes. "Come on, Mjöll."

"Coming!"

Meanwhile, Bethy was standing nervously by herself. _Where'd Mjöll go? _she wondered.

"Excuse me." The voice was soft, but in her nervous, silent panic, she shrieked, and pushed at him.

"Hey!" was all he was able to get out before falling off the dock. He bobbed up, spluttering. "What'd you do that for?"

"I'm so sorry!" Bethy squeaked, her hands pressed to her mouth. "I—I really didn't mean to! You startled m-me!"

"Well, I'd think there are better ways of letting a person know they've startled you than pushing them off the blinking dock!" He pushed himself out and stood there, shivering.

Bethy was about to apologize again when she noticed a piece of kelp caught in his hair. It was so funny that she couldn't help but laugh. After a couple moments, the boy joined in.

She wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry for pushing you in. I'm a little violent when I'm startled. My name is Bethany Ailsa Fitzherbert—what's yours?"

"Finnr Erik Kristoffsson. But just call me Finnr."

"Finn-er," she said, testing out the name. "It's pretty."

"Thanks, I think. Yours is nice, too."

"Thank you." She curtsied. "It's a pleasure to meet you, and to see Arendalle again."

"That's right! You were the little slip of a girl who screamed when I yelled 'Boo' at her!"

Bethy reddened. "That was _you_?! I had nightmares for a week!"

He looked puzzled. "What? Why?"

"If I recall correctly, Prince Finnr, you were wearing a rather grotesque mask at the time. The mouth was turned up so as to be constantly smiling, and the eyes were mere slits."

Finnr winced. "Oh, yes. I'm always forgetting what that hiding was for. Please accept my most sincere apologies, Princess Bethany of Corona."

She rolled her eyes, trying to stem the blush that was flowing across her cheeks. "Talk like that anymore and I'll push you in again."

"Bethy! I thought you said that ladies don't push gentlemen in water!" Bethy looked down to see Rick standing there. "Remember? When I pushed Alyssa in the pond, that's what you told me."

At this moment, Bethy would have probably been subjected to the most horrible of weapons—childhood innocence—if Finnr had not intervened. "Ah, don't worry about that, lad. I'm not a gentleman, so your sister would be well within her rights to push me into any body of water. What's your name?"

Rick crossed his arms and stepped pointedly in front of Bethy. "_I_," he said, imitating his father's don't-mess-with-me stance, "am Prince Alaric Lucas Percival Thomas Fitzherbert, and if you look at my sister the wrong way, I'll—"

"_Rick_!" This time, Bethy was saved from complete embarrassment by her other younger sibling. Alyssa was storming up the dock, holding what looked suspiciously like a pair of once-best stockings. Now they wouldn't even make the top ten, dripping in seawater and smelling like sulfur. "My _stockings_!"

Rick's eyes widened. "Bye, Bethy!" he yelled, running away, Alyssa in full pursuit.

Bethy avoided Finnr's eyes. "Um. Those were my younger siblings. You may have noticed."

"Rick's a good kid." She looked up in surprise. "Ready to kill anyone who lays a finger on his sister—that's a sign of a good brother."

"Yes, but he's seven. I'm seventeen. I rather think I know how to defend myself by now."

"Actually, you'd be surprised. My mother, for example…have you ever heard the story of how she met my father?"

"I can't say I have. Would you mind repeating it?"

"I'd be delighted. It all began, one early morning, when Princess Anna wanted to play in the snow…"

As Mjöll watched them walk away together, she smiled deviously. _You think you'll never get married, Finnr? Oh, just you wait!_


	7. Chapter 6

In Which There Is Budding Romance, Sneaky References, and Lots of Angst

**A/N: **Props to anyone who can recognize the little Anne of Green Gables reference in this chapter!

"She did _what_?"

"I know! I mean, who accepts a proposal from someone they just _met_?" Finnr laughed. "Well, my mother, apparently."

"But—but—didn't she know _anything_?" Bethy clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh goodness, that was rude of me. I'm sorry."

"It's fine! My mother can't believe she did that either. Luckily, Aunt Elsa had a little more sense…"

Mjöll peeked at the two from around the corner. She didn't miss the pretty way that Bethy's hair curled over her shoulder, or how Finnr kept adjusting his collar.

_This is certainly going to be interesting_, she thought, smiling. _But what about his powers?_

Well, they'd cross that bridge when they got to it. But…oh, _yes_. They were perfect for each other! Bethy had written to her about how she was always the one in the background, and how she loved her sister, but sometimes she'd like to be the main character. And Finnr didn't have to tell her that he was sick of having people scared of him, just because of his fire powers.

Truthfully, Mjöll was even a little scared of him sometimes. Like that morning, when the fire crystal had glowed brighter and brighter, and she'd suddenly felt a searing pain in her ankle. She knew it was an accident, and that Finnr would never hurt her on purpose, but…

But he _had _hurt her. And she would always be just slightly afraid of him.

Which was why she needed to find him a wife, pronto. And Bethy evidently liked him…

"What are you looking at?"

"AHHHH!" Mjöll screamed, flailing backwards and landing heavily. "Ow!"

"Oh, shoot! Are you okay?" A pair of handsome green eyes stared at her worriedly.

She quickly shut her mouth. "Er. Yes. I'm fine. Who—who are you?"

The man—boy? Youth?—stuck out a hand, helping her up. As she dusted off her skirts, he bowed. "Aaron of Weselton, at your service."

"What? No, you're not! Aaron was a—" Her eyes widened as she took in the insignia on his doublet. "Whoa…_you're _Aaron? Of _Weselton_? Are you _sure_?"

The young man stared at her with an eyebrow raised. "Um. Yes?"

"Oh—you don't remember me. It's me—um, Mjöll." She curtsied. "I mean, _Princess _Mjöll Ebba Kristoffsson. It's—er, it's nice to see you again."

"What! No way! Mjöll was—I mean—er."

Mjöll burst out laughing. "It's all right—I was skinny and had spots on my face. And you—"

"I was overweight and had twice as many spots. And all I did the entire time my grandfather was trying to open up the trading route again was antagonize you!"

"Yes! I was eleven and you were thirteen, and I just wanted to read my book, and—"

"And I pulled your braid and called you Carrots!"

"And I hit you over the head with my book!"

"And then you didn't talk to me for the rest of my stay!"

Mjöll laughed, taking in Aaron's new appearance. His previously greasy, though neat hair was replaced by clean, slightly shaggy hair that shone copper in the bright light of the lamps. His green eyes were the same as ever, and his complexion had cleared up.

All in all, he was _much _more handsome that Mjöll remembered. She blushed to think of it. But it was true.

Suddenly, she heard a giggling from behind her. "Oh no," she whispered, remembering what she'd been doing before Aaron had startled her. She slowly turned around.

Sure enough, Bethy and Finnr were standing in the doorway, giggling like crazy. Finnr managed to say, "I see you've become re-acquainted with Aaron of Weselton, little sister!" before cracking up again.

Mjöll crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. "I didn't _recognize _him. Besides, I'd just fallen down. You guys are jerks."

Finnr's only response to this was to stick out his tongue.

"My brother," she said to Aaron, trying to ignore the red flush spreading over his cheeks. "Can you believe he's single?"

At this, Bethy's eyebrows raised momentarily. It was only a moment in time, but Mjöll noticed it. And grinned.

"Come on, Aaron. I'll reintroduce you to my family, and we can leave the lovebirds alone."

To her extreme satisfaction, she saw both faces behind her light up like red lanterns as she took Aaron's (very well-muscled) arm and strolled away.

_This is going to be _fun.

"Bloody _Mjöll_," Hjortr muttered, untacking his horse and practically throwing the saddle at its hook. "Bloody little matchmaker…trolls are bad enough…_Mother's _bad enough…she just _has _to join in…"

He continued in this vein until his horse nuzzled his ear. He laughed. "Sorry, Sven-la. Mjöll just irritates me."

"Bleeding _parents_!" Hjortr's ears pricked up. Someone else was complaining?

"Bleeding Mother—bleeding Father—bleeding _every single person in the whole damn family except Rick_!"

Wait. Was it…?

"And bleeding _Mjöll_!" The speaker turned to corner, and Hjortr, just stepping out of the stall, got a faceful of thick auburn curls and crackling green eyes before said figure tripped over him and fell, bringing him down with her.

"_Damn _it!" Hjortr caught a sob at the end of the sentence. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to trip over you, I'm just having a terrible day and—oh!" She cursed under her breath. "Sorry, Your Highness. I—um, I'll get off you now." She stood up, slapping her palms free of dirt.

Hjortr got to his feet. His legs seemed to be tingling. He bowed, only stumbling a little. "Forgive my poor manners, Princess Grania. Is there anything I can do to allay your dist—?"

"Oh, stop it." Grania sat down with a thump, her hair covering her face. "Stop it with all the fancy language. We both know you don't mean it. If you can help me, then stay here and talk like a bloody normal person. If not, just go away, and please don't tell anyone you saw me crying."

Hjortr hesitated. Then, slowly, he walked out of the stables, trying not to listen to Grania's sobs.

**A/N: **ANGST ANGST ANGST

That was certainly a lot of angst! Not sure where it came from…(oh wait, yes I do, My impossible crush, that's where.) Anyways, I am SO SO SO SORRY for making you all wait so long! I can't log in on Fanfiction anymore (forgot the password) and Google Chrome doesn't let me load Fictionpress, AND I've had a lot of homework, so I am so sorry! I'll try to do a random bonus chapter sometime this week to make up for it. Thank you for all your reviews, and I hope you liked the chapter!


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